The Rift
by padfoot's prose
Summary: "It's times like these, drifting in this rift between being awake and being asleep, that I get most of my thinking done." As she drifts to sleep, Taylor reflects on everything that's happened in the past six weeks. On The Jellicoe Road - Melina Marchetta


**[17/10/10 - UPDATED, SPELL-CHECKED AND EDITED]**

**_On The Jellicoe Road_ is a young adult novel by Melina Marchetta (author of _Looking For Alibrandi_ and _Saving Francesca_). It's about a girl called Taylor Markham who, with the help of Raffy, Santangelo, and of course Griggs, is trying to discover the mystery of her past - everything up to the day her mother dumped at a 7Eleven, and Hannah took her in. It's an amazing novel, as are all of Marchetta's works, and I encourage anyone and everyone to read it.**

**I'll admit it, even I found it hard to read to begin with, but I promise that the story slowly draws you in, until you suddenly discover you're sitting up in bed at one o'clock , trying to decide whether you should cry or smile at what happens on page 237. 'What is it?' you ask... well, you'll just have to read it and see!  
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**(21/6/10 - Ironically, I definitely didn't learn my lesson from this comment, because last night, a whole 2 years later, I found myself sitting in bed from 11pm-2am, eyes glued to this book. It must be magical or something!)**

**Disclaimer: If this were mine, I would be one hell of an advertiser. Not to mention hugely egotistical. Which I really hope I'm not. Therefore - not mine.**

_For Jonah Griggs who, despite his unfortunate name, is one of the sweetest, most wonderful fictional caracters ever._

_Oh, yeah..._

_And for Annie. Cos she kinda deserves it._

It's at times like these, drifting in that infinite rift between being awake and being asleep, that I got most of my thinking done.

Usually by this time, I've just finished talking to Griggs, who calls almost every day to talk to me for those few precious minutes on the communal phone. If I didn't know better, I'd say he sort of enjoys keeping me on the phone - parading the fact that we're together. Admittedly, on the eleventh night in two weeks that he called (and we talked for so long that Trini had to physically pull the phone from my hand, spit out an angry "goodbye" and glare at me until I apologised and slunk away), Ben had stood up from our chess game and just walked out the door. I think he was annoyed that I'd given up hanging around with him so I could talk to Jonah. While Jonah continued telling me about his brother's new obsession with football card, Raffy and I had exchanged a look, trying not to laugh. Ben's a nice guy, and I guess I like him... but he isn't Jonah.

After talking to Griggs in the evening, I'm usually feeling pretty content. Content enough to put up with about half an hour of Jessa's loud chatter with the other younger girls, until I feel like screaming at them to shut up. When I reach that point, I saunter off to my room, not wanting to be glared at again by Trini.

And now that's where I am.

This room is different from my old one - the one that I was so used to before – and it's not exactly different in a good way. But, seeing as all that remains of my old room is a blackened patch of dirt and a few crossbeams, I know it'd be pretty stupid to complain about the new one. At least this room is quiet. And private. Turns out that Trini and even Raffy couldn't put up with me in the same room for more than a few weeks, so I moved up here, into the little corner room that smells like it used to be a laundry. I figure the smell is enough to stop me feeling guilty about being the only one with a room to myself.

Being alone gives me time to think. And I think that's fair, considering just how much I have to think about these days.

My thoughts... it's hard to say what I think about the most. For my last few months of school, I've been all over the place. There are the normal things like exams, Griggs, trying to keep Ben away without hurting him, Griggs, whatever the hell is going on with Raffy and Santangelo, and then there's Griggs again.

But there's also everything else. The stuff that's so much harder to think about, because of the pain, the hope, the humour – the total confusion that I feel towards it all.

Hannah and Jude, for starters, are keeping their personal lives to themselves, something that I am very annoyed at, seeing as I'd helped push them along. And Tate – my mum – is now buried by the river, just near the house, with a little headstone above her. That's a good thing, I suppose, that she gets to stay there for eternity. I know the Tate from Hannah's novel would have liked to be buried there, near the river, where we all know Webb is lying somewhere.

It's strange, I think, having a family. As if suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, I am _someone_ again. When I'd finally understood Hannah's story – understood everything about Tate and Webb and Fitz and Jude and Narnie – I'd finally understood a part of myself, too. The part that wanted a family just as much as every other kid does. What was scary was that that part of me felt exactly how Jessa had felt for so long. All that time, when I was ignoring her, she was longing to be a part of my life. Because deep down, she knew that she was.

Suddenly, I can say who I am, and it surprises me just how easy it is. I am Taylor Markham. I am in love with Jonah Griggs. I have a mother whose name is Tate and a father whose name is Xavier Webster Schroeder, but everyone calls him Webb. I have an aunt called Hannah. And one day, I'll have an uncle called Jude. Jessa is almost my sister. Raffy is my best friend. Santangelo is my rock. And I am Taylor Markham.

Suddenly, it isn't a name anymore. Suddenly, it's an identity. A real person. And that idea frightens me, as well as exciting me.

Yet, as this excitingly-frightening revelation dawns upon me, I can feel myself already slipping further to sleep. I don't fight it. I let it engulf me, draw me in to dreams, so different from my old ones of Webb in the tree, but somehow similar.

I still dream of Webb and Tate and Narnie and Jude and Fitz. But now they don't feel like visions or warnings. They just feel like dreams. No longer does Fitz beg me for forgiveness, before shooting the life out of himself. In these dreams, they are just five teenagers, spending their carefree days on the Jellicoe Road.

And somehow, as I dream, these five people change and shift. Into only four people. Into Raffy. Into Santangelo. Into Griggs. Into me. And the four of us are spending the carefree days of our youth, so many of which have already slipped away, lazing about on the Jellicoe Road.

And I feel _good_.

Not happy, exactly. Not sad, either.

Because Griggs is still six hundred kilometres away from me, and Hannah and Jude still aren't engaged as far as I know, and Raffy and Santangelo are still dodging around whatever the hell it is between them, even though we all know they won't be able to dodge it for much longer.

But those things don't make me sad.

Not knowing who my father was made me sad. Thinking that my mother hated me made me sad. Wondering if Griggs would forget me when he left made me sad.

But he hasn't forgotten me. My mother had never, ever hated me. And now I know my father was a good man – a good person.

So I have no reason to be sad, and that comforts me. And, really, for once in my life, I _do_ have a reason to be happy. Lots of reasons, actually.

And finally, I finish drifting. Finally, I let go of all concepts of awakedness, and everything just disappears. I pass through the rift and, for the first time in what feels like forever, I know I'll come out the other side. Because why wouldn't I come out? Who wouldn't want to wake up to the world I'll have tomorrow?

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**They say never to say "thank you" after giving a speech, and maybe writing is the same. I think the idea is that I've done a service to the audience/readers, so they're supposed to be thanking me. So here's an idea: thank me. Click on that little review button and tell me what you thought.**


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